Warming up for Jamelia's debut show, a DJ deafens us with modern American R'n'B: hits from Destiny's Child, Q-Tip and Sisqo. Jamelia is a 19-year-old Brummie, hailed as Britain's R'n'B queen with chart successes Money and Call Me, but it's such glossy US expressions that she aspires to.
Wailing sirens signal Jamelia's presence. Coloured spotlights sweep the stage as various session musicians and backing singers assemble. Does Jamelia make the flamboyant entrance worthy of a young R'n'B diva? No; she creeps in from the side, grinning bashfully. She looks fantastic, though: a vision in diamante, and her vocals cut smoothly and sweetly through a funky opener.
Jamelia's set draws on her well-received album, Drama; the problem, however, is that drama is what she lacks. Things really go awry when she performs Call Me. It has a plush soul melody, with a sharply-choreographed video. Onstage, however, we're distracted by Jamelia's pubescent backing dancers, bounding all over the stage (and the song) like excitable puppies, affecting "manly" expressions. Luckily, they disappear for a bit after that, but the awkwardness persists. Although Jamelia exudes charm, vacillating from American vocals to introduce numbers in Birmingham brogue, she can't bring herself to make eye contact with the audience.
Choosing this glamorous club venue for Jamelia's debut is a mistake; its age restrictions exclude the kids who buy her records (although, sadly, it hasn't deterred her backing dancers). Jamelia is essentially a pop star. She's an approachable pin-up and sings catchy tunes, but certain moments during this show almost swallow themselves with self- consciousness. Like when Jamelia raps that her "Room 101" is "a little hideaway that nobody knows" (so it's not an Orwellian nightmare, then). Or when a wooden guest vocalist joins her to cover Barbra Streisand's Guilty; he gets his chest out, but at least he looks past the age of consent.
Jamelia plays her Baroque-swingbeat hit Money as an encore (with ragga hero Beenie Man on backing tapes), but she's clearly had more enjoyable appearances on CDUK. She'll prove she's capable of greater things when she performs with a tighter ensemble to a more responsive pop crowd. Right now, merely emulating American acts makes British R'n'B more shopping precinct than ghetto fabulous.
